


Denouement

by rozeneva (CaitlinOfMars)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, Drabble, Feelings, Jokerit, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitlinOfMars/pseuds/rozeneva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie won't stop talking about how ironic it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denouement

**Author's Note:**

> An insubstantial drabble of nothingness. Written mostly to help me deal with the conflicting emotions of Teuvo getting his 4th NHL goal and finding out that Stevie is leaving Jokerit after three years.  
> Set sometime in the 2013-14 season.
> 
>  
> 
> **UPDATE** : So I just found out that Stevie's been signed to the Preds for next season! Finally in the NHL! Good luck to him.

Stevie won't stop talking about how ironic it is.

"Hey, I've come over to your country to play hockey, and you're going over to my country to play hockey," He says, light American accent drawling out the words in the infuriatingly fluent way that Teuvo himself never could with English. "That's some weird sort of coincidence."

Teuvo turns from the window to look at where his linemate is sprawled out on the couch, beer in hand, grinning beautifully up at him. His brown hair curls, unruly and soft, at his temples and the nape of his neck, in a way so unlike the glossy promotional pictures it makes Teuvo want to laugh. He looks just as gorgeous, though, if not more so; the outline of his body gentle and comfortable in worn jeans and a threadbare t-shirt.

"I mean, think about it." Stevie continues, sitting up properly and tilting his head at Teuvo, voice gone weirdly subdued, "You're going to America to better yourself, to become a professional in the highest league in the world. I left America because it wouldn't let me do just that. In a way, you're doing what I never could."

"Stevie," Teuvo sighs, because the man's puppy-eyes have lowered a little. He crosses the room to seat himself next to the American as Steve shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Nah, I'm alright. That was a hard pill to swallow, but I got over it a long time ago." He fixes Teuvo with a lopsided smile, "I'm happy for you, man. Go out there and show 'em how we do it here in Finland, huh?"

Teuvo manages a weary smile in return, nodding. Steve grins, and the rim of his bottle clinks against his teeth as he takes a sip, and all Teuvo can think is _God I'll miss him_. He's gained all he's ever wanted; he was drafted by the goddamn Blackhawks, and he's just about to start living his dream. But he hadn't really spared much thought about the people he was going to leave behind.

"You'll be great here. You always are." He eventually speaks, careful to get the pronunciation right because it feels like he at least owes this to Stevie, if not so much more, "Going into the KHL, you'll get highest scorer, I know you will."

Stevie hums and nudges him with his shoulder, settling their bodies together, comfortably pressed from arm to thigh. "Of course I will. I'm a goddamn sniper."

He raises his bottle as he says it, like its a promise, a toast. That's definitely something that Teuvo can drink to.

It's getting late, the sun dropping through the Helsinki skyline outside the windows of Steve's apartment, and, as the comfortable silence drags on from seconds to minutes, Teuvo knows this is the time when he should excuse himself and leave. But he's weak; he's tired, melancholy, and a little in love with the man by his side. All Stevie's been talking about for the past week is Teuvo's move to the Blackhawks and everything just catches up with him in a nauseating lurch.

Okay, he's scared. He wants to play good hockey, he's _used_ to playing good hockey, but what if he's not as good over in America? Maybe the NHL is just too different from the Liiga, and he'll never feel comfortable and find his groove. What if moving to the USA just means sacrificing all the good that's happened here in order to go to a place where he's not as recognised, not as respected. Where he doesn't have small comforts like this one; the warm, solid presence of Steve by his side, breathing low and steady, grounding.

The sound of glass against hardwood breaks him out of his own head, and it takes him a second to realise that Stevie had set his bottle down on the floor.

"Look, Teuvo." He prompts, soft and smooth, turning to face him. Teuvo meets his eyes just as the American reaches out and grasps his hand like a prayer, a pact. "We'll both be fine. Everything's uncertain right now, but I've learned from experience that things run their course no matter what you do. You just have to go with it, find the silver lining, and things will turn out alright. Yeah?"

And Teuvo's not too familiar with English proverbs, but he recognises this one, finds himself sinking into the feeling of Stevie's large, warm hand covering his, into the velvet touch of his soothing words. The man's skin glows all light-tan and flawless in the fading light, big brown eyes wide and earnest, and Teuvo's feelings bubble up in his throat like water, like he needs to tell Steve how he feels right now, to spit the words out, or he'll end up drowning in them.

Instead he swallows them down, tilting his head and asking, "What is the silver lining about playing here?"

The corner of Stevie's mouth tugs up slightly, a crooked smirk to match his previous lopsided grin.

"You,"

He admits it like he should be feeling guilty, like he knows he shouldn't say it but can't stop himself from smiling at the thought. Something inside Teuvo nudges loose and he's falling, flying, reeling himself in and pressing his lips against Stevie's 'cause he just can't take it any more.

The American guides him into it, mouth dry and warm, hand sliding to Teuvo's jaw to move him into place. The kiss is innocent, soft, everything Teuvo expected it to be and more. Stevie's lips capture his in a maddeningly slow rhythm as his hands find the front of the man's t-shirt, grasping, holding on for dear life. 

It's perfect. He's content for a while, floating in peace, focused solely on the press and recede of their mouths, but then Stevie's tongue comes out to nudge at his lower lip and a flame of desire sparks alight inside him. Teuvo opens his mouth slightly and Steve hums victoriously into the kiss, and suddenly things are escalating faster than he can keep track of. He's being pulled forward and rearranged in the man's lap, straddling his hips. He's allowing a warm-wet tongue into his mouth to stroke dizzyingly over his own. Pleasured noises fill the air slowly, caught in the spiderweb of desire all around them, and Teuvo has the vague feeling that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to.

He really, really doesn't.

Because here, Stevie is _real_ , tangible. He's not some unreachable fantasy, or a distant memory. Teuvo has never really been aware of the present moment before, but now that he is, it feels like hot skin under his palms and a sweetness on his tongue, it sounds like small hitches in uneven breathing and unfettered low moans. 

It feels like this is the ending to something, the closure, the denouement, and Teuvo wants it to last forever.

\--

Once everything that was going to happen has happened, and they're lying half-dressed, sweaty and satiated, tangled together on Stevie's couch, the American gets Teuvo's attention with a sigh.

"I'll probably leave here, once my contract ends."

Teuvo stays silent, head pressed to Stevie's chest, counting his heartbeats like they're the metre of his words.

"I mean," The man continues, "I've matured here. I've grown up, my game is better. That has to count for something."

Teuvo nods, feeling Stevie's hand come up to card through his hair, "Yeah." He agrees.

Stevie's hope is infectious, it floods through his veins and fills him with the steadying certainty that they're both moving on to better things. That they'll both, wherever they go, be alright.

For now, though, he turns to press his mouth against the man's chest and lets himself be surrounded in this easy paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Stevie and Teuvo weren't even that close when they were both in Jokerit. Don't ask me where this pairing came from-- I'm honestly not sure myself.  
> Apologies for any British-isms you may find!


End file.
